Cold headpiece
by Soul The Mad King
Summary: Arkos one shot - CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR RWBY VOLUME 3 - Something I was compelled to make after that season final. Rated T just to be sure, I guess strong emotions count, right?
**Don't worry, I'm still working on 'Dragon's Warmth' but the RWBY fandom has felt great pain after the third season final and** _ **I just can't I had to make this someone hold me**_

 **-Spoilers-**

A thick snowfall had completely covered the forest floor. The trees branches were stripped bare and gave no protection from future snow. It was silent except from the continuous crunching of steps in the snow. Nora was leading the walk in a light-hearted way with Ren close behind her, telling her something. Ruby walks a little behind the both with her hands behind her back smiling and laughing over the two in front. Jaune walks behind them all, with a broken smile written across his face.

When he first heard the news he didn't believe it. He knew that she had faced Cinder alone, he knew that she was outmatched, he knew that she had taken the high horse and put his safety first, he knew that she was too smart to be so careless so he knew that she couldn't have. He had shut out anyone one who told him she was gone, even his friends. They couldn't be right. They clearly didn't know her like he did. Jaune ducked under a snow covered branch as the others started to keep an eye out for a good spot to camp.

When Jaune's family tried to reach out to him, it infuriated him. How could they possibly understand what he was going through? His mother had tried with a smooth voice and soft words but it made no difference. He always found his anger rising when they tried a different approach. His fits of shouting were common in their household for weeks. The most frustrating part was that no one challenged him. No backtalk from his sisters, no punishment from his parents or sneers and comments from neighbours or anything. They just looked sad for him. Like they understood his pain. Jaune set down this bag next to a tree and helped set up the tents with freezing bones.

When most of the huntsmen and huntresses were gathered, they salvaged as much equipment and belongings at Beacon. As Jaune saw all the different belongings being passed to the students of Beacon, he realised he would give each and one of those priceless possessions away just to see someone come along with her, only a few cuts and bruises but well. All they came back with was her bronze headpiece. Qrow went straight to him with the last piece of her, went straight to him and no one else. Various huntsmen moved out of his way, like a reflex well practiced. The low noise of the place seemed to lull and faze out. His red eyes calm and understanding yet glazed with a layer of sadness. When Jaune's slender fingers gripped the metal, there was metallic clinking. Jaune had to steady his right hand with his left.

When that clinking was silenced so was Jaune's disbelief, his rage and his endless begging. Like the flick of a light switch plunging a room into darkness. He felt like he had been on the edge of an abyss and now he had been pushed into the engulfing emptiness. He let out a held breathe and felt thick waters of depression fill his tired lungs. He could taste the tang of the copper in his mouth, an insult to the sweet fragrance she once had. He looked up to the unshaven huntsmen and tired to form words but he gritted his teeth to stop the whimper that almost escaped. He turned with his eyes trained on the ground and solemnly wandered through the mass of people. When he glanced up, he was face to face with a woman with bright red hair and emerald green eyes. He was speechless. When realised that this women was about 3 inches shorter than his selfless red-haired warrior, he felt the corners of his eyes sting. She met his eyes and had the evidence of tears on her cheeks.

"She spoke of you. Fondly."

Jaune could almost see the hole in her soul tearing her composure apart. He forced his frozen muscles to offer the headpiece. She gently pushed it back say he should keep it to remember her. He felt the metal against his chest, his heart, bittersweet tears shot down his cheeks. The women in front of him embraced him and despite not even knowing her name, he felt as close to her as his family. In a way, she was a member of his family.

"I'm sorry." Jaune whispered.

"Jaune Arc, if you only do one thing for her now, don't you dare blame yourself."

The bare trees crowned around him around him like curious onlookers. He sat in the biting cold snow, alone, with the beautifully crafted headpiece in his quivering hands. He held it against his forehead to feel her presence just once more.

But it was cold.

Without Pyrrha.

The tautly wound coil in his heart loosened and he expelled a burdened tension in his body. His lungs finally tasted the fresh, crisp winter air. He accepted that denying wouldn't bring Pyrrha back. Neither would cursing the cruel world or trading everything he held dear. Nothing would. But accepting and moving on might make the pain more bearable.

 **Short and sweet. Oh, sorry, I mean bittersweet.**

 **Tell me what you think!**


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